One of those days
When agitation drives productivity
Up the wall and out through
Dark chimney
As little eye contact
As possible to continue breathing
Non stop doing not enough
While hanging somewhere in the air
With feet not grounded on the soil
That holds my truth
Was there ever a piece of land that did?
Gulping for a sense of belonging
Just like i did since long before anything
Started happening
So far away from the start
Yet held by the same forces
My best frenemies
That uncover
The illusion of being
When it does not come
From within
Pushing away the
Aliveness to be properly
Placed in the net of sameness
Normality of boredom
Oh how I hate it
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 10:39 PM UTC
One of those days
When agitation drives productivity
Up the wall and out through
Dark chimney
As little eye contact
As possible to continue breathing
Non stop doing not enough
While hanging somewhere in the air
With feet not grounded on the soil
That holds my truth
Was there ever a piece of land that did?
Gulping for a sense of belonging
Just like i did since long before anything
Started happening
So far away from the start
Yet held by the same forces
My best frenemies
That uncover
The illusion of being
When it does not come
From within
Pushing away the
Aliveness to be properly
Placed in the net of sameness
Normality of boredom
Oh how I hate it
